Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, places, or concepts of The Walking Dead, I merely make stories out of them. They belong to other, important persons.
A/N: Hey all! I know its' been ages since I updated this, but I really hope you guys enjoy this. It took me a while, as I've had half the file sitting around in my Drive for months... it was a prompt I found on tumblr (and regrettably no longer remember who it came from), about Carol and Daryl getting intimate for the first time, and Daryl finding a tattoo somewhere on her body.
I think the prompt was meant to be sexy. I don't think sexy is their style - at least not yet. I hope y'all enjoy it. (And if anybody knows who prompted this, PLEASE tell me!)
Alright
...
His mind was racing.
Carol's lips had somehow found his, and were amazingly, still pressed against them even moments later. Her fingers curled around the collar of his shirt, and though his initial impulse had been to tear himself away from the contact, he quickly realized that this wasn't the kind that would hurt.
Merle had taught him that touch was something that was usually earned, and the kind of touching he was used to caused more pain than anything else.
But this time it was gentle.
So gentle, and so goddamn good.
Once Carol realized that he wasn't going to push her away - or run, like she had expected him to - she pulled herself closer to him, locking her hands in his shirt. He felt like nothing she'd ever known before.
Daryl Dixon was the hunter of the group. He was wild, untamed, and explosive. He was the one everyone looked up to when Rick was unstable - and the unfortunate reality of the situation was that Rick became more and more unstable by the day. But not Daryl.
Daryl was reliable. Caring, in his own way, and always seeking approval of those who mattered to him.
A man of honour.
Carol wanted him to realize that more than anything; it certainly hadn't been her intention to rise up on her toes, and kiss the man as he was staring at her intently with those clear blue eyes of his.
Daryl's thoughts were garbled; after the initial shock of the sudden touch of her soft lips wore off, he became uncomfortable for lack of knowing what to do from there. Running away seemed like a really good idea, especially since he was sure Carol would forgive him - but he actually wanted this.
He had been wanting it for some time - he just hadn't realized until the moment he noticed how her lips felt on his.
His hands balled into nervous fists as Carol kissed him harder, though somehow still gently.
Daryl marveled at the way her body was now pressed against him, her arms were draped over his shoulders - when did that happen? And he could feel her melting, almost, into him. Every curve and bone on her body now known to his.
It sent a heat rushing through his veins, and a low moan escaped his lips - completely unbeknownst to him.
Carol, noticed.
She took it as encouragement, just as much as she had done when he didn't pull away. Carol slowly smiled into his lips, and made a small noise of questioning before breaking the kiss. "You okay?" She asked, looking up into his eyes. Her face stayed close to his, just pleased to have made physical contact with the ever-elusive Daryl Dixon, but very intent on finding out exactly what he wanted, and how he wanted it.
Daryl however, was so much more than okay.
He was only aware of how good it all felt, and when she pulled away to ask him that question he had no answer to give her. He looked into her eyes silently, curiously, with a hint of fear that broke Carol's heart as she saw it beneath his calm exterior.
How long has it been, for him? She wondered.
Then again, it had been some time for her too, and even longer since she had enjoyed it. But whatever their little tryst brought them that day, she decided, it was going to be good for both of them. Didn't they deserve affection and - Carol stopped herself from thinking the word "love", and instead turned her thoughts back on Daryl, who still stared at her quizzically, while his lip twitched upward in the corner briefly.
"'m fine." He said gruffly. Rather gruffly.
Carol was surprised at the huskiness in his voice, and looked up at him with one eyebrow raised. She couldn't help but smile herself when she saw that his eyes, his normally bright, clear blue eyes, had darkened from their original colour into something mysterious and deep.
What she saw next sent a shiver down her spine, and sent a heat coursing through her veins.
Want.
Daryl Dixon didn't know much, but all he knew was that he wanted to feel Carol's lips on his again. He wanted to feel her body next to his, as close as they could get. And, being the independent, brash man he was, he got what he wanted.
Within seconds, their lips had once again joined in that teasing battle for dominance, and despite the almost silent hums that escaped Carol's throat, she seemed to be winning. He didn't mind at all.
Her arms pulled him back further into her cell, out of view of anyone who might have been looking from the lower level. Now truly alone, together, Carol allowed herself a little more freedom; her hands moved from behind him to his shoulders, tracing the strong contours of his arms and chest, eventually wrapping around him again and drawing him close.
Daryl's head was spinning. Still at a loss for what to do, he allowed her to take the lead. Her hands exploring his torso was beginning to make him feel light headed, not to mention tighter below the belt. He groaned as one of her hands made its way into his hair, the other pulling at his waist and bringing them tight against one another.
He felt her smile into his lips.
Before he knew it, she had him pushed back onto her cot, sitting with the top few buttons of his shirt undone. For the first time since her lips made contact with his, she pulled back fully and stood up.
Daryl decided he didn't like the worried look on her face. He felt nervous too, terrified, the temptation to run still coursing through his veins. Still, there was something dark and mysterious in Carol's eyes and part of him was dying to find out what it was.
As she rose up, he watched her delicate fingers find the hem of her shirt and gently lift up.
His eyes snapped up to her face as he saw a blush creep across her cheeks. She was nervous.
Carol knew he was watching her expression, seeing the makings of thought behind his darkened eyes. Biting her lip, she pushed her insecurities away - this was Daryl, a man of honour, who had become so important to her that she felt she owed him this honesty. This naked honesty.
Her greyed tank top was pulled over her head and discarded on the floor, standing before him in a threadbare black bra and her red pants.
Daryl's voice felt like it had been hiding somewhere for the last minute, but as she looked at him with that soft smile of hers, open and warm and inviting, the words seemed to come of their own volition.
"C'mere." He said. In an instant, her lips were on his again, and he was scooting further back on the mattress to allow her to sit over his lap, one knee on either side of his legs. Finally getting the courage to touch her, his hands tentatively found her waist, causing her to shiver.
Daryl invariably paused, looking up as though for permission. Carol chuckled and nodded, pressing a tender kiss to his cheekbone before trailing her kisses back to his lips. She sighed into them, again the feeling of melting washing over the redneck. His arms wrapped around her, her bare skin pressed against his exposed flesh from under his shirt. It sent jolts through his body, his blood verily pumping everywhere before beginning to pool lower and lower down his torso.
To Carol, his rough hands combined with the hesitance and tenderness he used to touch her, felt unlike anything she'd experienced. It was becoming clear to her that Daryl wasn't particularly confident in this area - at least he wasn't very demanding. He was taking his time, and she was going to let him. It surprised her when his lips broke away from hers and began exploring her jawline and neck, grazing and kissing and breathing on her skin.
One of his hands made its way around in front, resting on her ribcage. It was warm, and the gentle pressure felt so good a contented gasp made its way out of Carol's throat as that hand skimmed over her bra, resting over her breast. The movement of his lips on her collarbone slowed, wrestling his inexperience while trying to go with his instincts.
Carol helped by gently pushing against his hand, Daryl's fingers contracting slightly in response, which elicited another subtle moan from the woman above him.
Why haven't I tried this before? She thought to herself with mild amusement as his hand worked its way under the cup of her bra to connect with the soft, sensitive skin underneath. She clutched his hair with one hand as he tore his lips from her neck to observe his own ministrations, looking between her face, and the impossibly pale, milky skin of her breast as he worked.
"Oh my-" She sighed as Daryl got impatient and pushed her bra up all the way, his lips then finding her nipple and gently testing the motion.
In minutes, he had Carol's arms around his shoulders once more and she was rendered speechless with the warmth of his mouth. His own tension was beginning to ease as he realized that the less he thought about - the easier it was to enjoy himself.
Watching her intrigued him, the subtle changes in her eyebrows as he applied more pressure here, or there, or did this with his tongue - for him it was all new, and the excitement was outweighing the nerves.
Carol pulled her bra off then, over her head and tossed it down with her shirt as she brought Daryl's lips back up to hers.
She felt herself pouring out so much emotion in that kiss, she wondered if he would somehow realize and, retreat, afraid.
He may have done, if he weren't feeling the same things, unable to put them into words. His hands traveled the length of her back affectionately, pulling her into an embrace. He loved the feeling of her in his arms, though he could feel every raised scar on her lower back and waist as he ran his hands over her.
As his left hand found the other, yet undiscovered right side of her chest, he was compelled to look at her right then.
Carol's eyes were on him, sparkling, and the sweetest smile he had ever seen was written on her features. Stunned him, it did. "You..." He said, unsure of what he meant to follow.
Her smile broadened, and she shook her head, taking his face in her hand and kissing him chastely on the lips.
Daryl smiled, as his eyes fell from her lips to her collarbone, to her breasts and finally to where his hand rested on her ribs. As he moved his hand, however, he noticed a small, black line of text just under where her bra would sit.
Her eyes widened as she remembered what was there, and she shifted slightly, lips dropping open.
The redneck examined it closer, pulling her forward.
Scanning the tattoo, he realized it was in a child's writing - and then he froze.
It'll be alright.
Carol's breath hitched as she watched some of the colour drain from her face, and she felt an all-too familiar tightening in her chest as she brought up a hand to cover Daryl's, closing it over the tattoo.
"Was that-" He asked quietly, not able to look at her in the face.
Nodding, she replied "Yeah. Sophia's."
Silence passed between them for a minute before Carol breathed in deeply, her thumb gently rubbing Daryl's wrist all the while. "It was from a note - she used to write me notes sometimes, in her school books. It was the one place she knew Ed would never look."
The memory of her little girl caused the tightness in her chest to turn almost unbearable.
"One day, it..." She paused, willing herself to speak clearly, without breaking. "It got bad and, Sophia heard. I tried to keep her away from it as much as possible but -" She shrugged, blinking back a tear.
Daryl looked up at her finally, the pain on her face so evident that he felt like his own heart might break.
"You don' hafta tell me." He said, trying to make it easier.
She shook her head, smiling sadly. "I want to."
He looked at her then, completely still, waiting.
With a shaky breath, Carol continued. "The next day I was checking over her homework and I found a note, dated the day before, and all it said was 'Mommy, I'm sorry. It'll be alright.'" A tear or two made its way down her face then, impossible to hold back. "Got it tattooed a week later - and you know what?" She asked rhetorically. "Ed didn't, didn't even notice. Had it for two damn years and he never noticed."
She laughed bitterly, and Daryl's temper quickly rose at the thought of her good-for-nothing, dead, husband. It had never sat well with him, how Ed treated Carol. But even in death, it was clear that he still affected her from time to time.
Daryl decided he wanted her close. The two of them, they were close. If he were being honest with himself, Carol had seen more of his real moments than most of the people he grew up with - Merle's buddies, his chicks, his customers. He liked that she had seen so much of him. It scared him, true, but it also made him realize that he felt close to her too.
Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in, his face resting in the curve of her neck as he pressed his lips into the skin where he could feel her pulse.
They stayed like that for a few minutes before they both heard the sound of footsteps from below, and Rick was calling Daryl's name.
"Watch." The younger Dixon brother sighed, muffled.
Carol nodded, biting her lip. She stood up eventually, covering herself with her arms before quickly retrieving her bra from the floor.
In that moment, Daryl seemed to realize where he was, and what he had been doing. He stood, eyes darting around nervously until she had her shirt back on, taking a step toward him.
"I gotta go." He said, looking down at her.
"I know." She said, her eyebrows furrowed, as though she were scared of something.
I'm scared of losing him.
She knew it before the words crossed her mind.
Daryl turned to the door to leave, when her hand shot out and grabbed one of his. He looked back, only half-turned.
"Come back tonight. I- Nothin' has to happen, I just-" Carol found it hard to find the words for once, trying not to put any pressure on him, yet unable to mask that she really did want him there. Needed him.
To her delight, Daryl nodded.
To her surprise, he squeezed her hand before letting his drop back to his side.
"Alright." He said before turning out of sight, looking back once, though he knew he could not longer see her from that angle.
Alright.
From Daryl Dixon, that word meant everything to her.
It made her believe, as she stood alone in her cell - body still warm from being flush against his, that she would be alright.
He would be alright.
They would all be alright - just like her baby girl said.